L'histoire des Six
by DreamVII
Summary: AU. From a back-alley doctor and his 'newsboy', to an investigator arriving in England; an Orthopedic surgeon that wants to help, to a girl running away from home, and to the boy with no memory. Set in Victorian times, with some slight adjustments.


**AN:** Hello, and welcome to the prologue of L'histoire de Six; or The Story of Six, in English. Some of you may have seen it on deviantART already - don't worry, I'm the same person, no stealing done here. XD Anywho~ This is essentially Trauma Team with a Victorian/possibly steam-punk twist. Definitely AU.

I hope you enjoy it!

**Disclaimer:** Trauma Team and all of its characters belong to Atlus.

* * *

Maria plodded along the streets, messenger cap tugged down over her eyes to keep dirt from blowing into them. Her messenger bag was being supported from her left shoulder and right hand, keeping the clinking noises down.

After all, she was only a 'newsboy'.

While she walked, Maria observed everything that was around her, listening in to anything that, to her, lead to another patient and more money.

It was just your typical day in London, England; automobiles going up and down the streets, releasing steam through a small spout near the hood, people milling about, entering shops and chit-chatting with friends.

Though, it was easier to notice less people were on the streets and more were in shops, thanks to the wind.

Men who could practically be animate door-mats followed their women in obedience, be it a lover, sister, or mother, all of whom were eager to get inside so they wouldn't get dust on their clothes.

She rolled her eyes at this, wondering _why _people wore such fancy clothes out on casual occasions, only to fret about every little thing that could get on them.

Children ran past, nearly knocking her down in their haste to run away from the kid who was 'it', not wanting to be caught and laughed at.

"Hey, watch it!" Maria barked at them, making sure none of the items under all the decrepit newspaper in her bag had broken. Thankfully, nothing had; she swore if she had to make a return trip to the pharmacist, she would've broken that little boy's nose.

Scowling, she continued along her way, weaving through alleys and stands, through little orphan girls selling flowers, passed the gossiping women and the men who had to stay and put up with it.

Of all the days Gabe just had to pick, he picked the windiest, most lackluster day possible. Nothing seemed to be wrong, save for constant complaints about the dust.

_It's a shame, really, _Maria thought, _I kinda miss those customers who don't co-operate and get a punch to their annoying faces. Normally shuts 'em up, too._

Just a few more alleys, and then she could relax; she could just imagine sitting in her over-used arm-chair, stretching out and being able to get these damn bandages off.

God, she hated them; it made it difficult to breathe at times and would leave her dizzy and winded when she got back from her route.

It had all been that prick's idea in the first place, hell, she could still remember exactly what he said in that teasing voice of his: _"Hey, Maria, why don't you bind your chest? Might make it easier to go about your work, 'cause ya know, it wouldn't be too hard for somebody to remember knockers like yours."_

He had a black-eye the rest of the week, and it was much more relaxing to just leave it at that.

Still...she did admit that they were pretty useful. It was easier to run without them bouncing around like crazy, no matter how much support she got; plus it made it easier for her to wear pants without getting double-takes and mocking comments.

Maria was definitely not about to tell Gabe his idea was actually helpful, though. Haha, no way in hell.

Hoisting the bag up a bit more to release the tension in her shoulder, Maria noticed a person clothed in black laying in the alley.

_Probably some drunk, too wasted to even get home... _Shaking her head slightly, she walked past, giving the man a quick glance to make sure he was at least still breathing.

"Shit!"

* * *

Quickly crouching down, setting the bag carefully to the side, Maria reached and pressed her fingers against the side of his neck; he still had a pulse, but who knows for how much longer? It was obvious he hadn't been here for long, otherwise he probably would've been stripped down and mugged in his defenseless state.

Blood was caked to the left side of his face, and some was in his hair - a nasty blow to the head, no doubt. Probably why he was even unconscious here in the first place.

There was an abrasion on his right cheek, a bruise forming around it; matching scrapes were on his palms. His jacket was soaked, clinging to his lower left abdomen, and a closer inspection revealed a knife wound.

Now, she wasn't about to strip him down right here and now to get a closer inspection (seriously, in a filthy alley? He'd get an infection.), but he needed help. Now.

Yawning, Gabe rolled the sleeves of his lab coat down, glad to have finished with that diagnosis.

The patient had pneumonia; presumably from walking to and from work on many a rainy day, and he prescribed the type of medication they would need and sent them on their way.

But not before they threw a bitch fit. Do patients always have to throw bitch fits? It seemed to practically be a requirement nowadays.

Or they simply wanted him to prescribe something in five minutes and send them on their way. Sheesh, how hard was it to just sit still for an hour and let him examine them? Hell, if they actually co-operated, they could get out of his office much faster.

"Is that the last patient for today, Dr. Cunningham?"

"Yeah." Pulling open his desk drawer, Gabe figured he could 'treat' himself for being so well-behaved with a cigarette.

"Doctor, I have gone over similar symptoms seen in others who frequently smoke, and -"

"I know, I know...smoking's bad for you, kills you faster, blah, blah, blah...you've already given me this whole speech before, RONI."

"Yet you still never listen." The witch stepped gracefully out of the back room, having hidden there during the patient's visit; nobody in town knew about her, save for him and Maria.

"What are you, my mother?" He inhaled, relaxing a bit, before exhaling in her direction. "Sheesh, I thought I wouldn't have to deal with one of those once I was eighteen."

RONI remained unfazed as to the smoke, simply blinking in response before turning towards the door. "It appears that Ms. Torres is back from her route -"

And just as soon as the witch said that, the door flew open, banging against the wall so hard that it shook the foundation and would've close itself, had it not been for a tan hand pushing it back open.

Gabe grumbled, pressing his palm to his forehead; no amount of mind-altering substances would get rid of the tension he felt now. "Maria, how many times have I told you, do not kick the door open."

"Oh, would you shut up! My hands were full because of all the goddamn crap you send me out to get, and this stupid kid!"

"...Stupid kid? Don't tell me you're robbing cradles now too, because that's one scary th- shit!" A small vial of antibiotic gel smashed against the wall, leaving shards on the floor and a stain on the wall - Gabe shivered at the thought of what would've happened to _his face_ if he hadn't ducked. "H-Hey, I needed that!"

"Quit being a prick and get the bandages out!" Maria lifted the kid up onto one of the examination tables, laying him flat on his back.

"Alright, alright. Anything else, your highness?" He was already up and moving to the cabinets, getting out gauze, bandages, and the last vial of antibiotic gel he had on hand. Gabe moved over to the opposite side of the examination table and deposited the items there.

"Yeah, shut your trap." Unbuttoning his shirt swiftly, Maria held her hand out. "Gauze. We need to wipe up the blood around the wound, first."

Nodding, he put several pieces on a tray and slid it over to her side. "Most of these can be healed up with just the gel, I think...we'll need to watch his head and that cut to his side though."

"Mm." She dabbed away the blood surrounding the knife wound, then applied four of the remaining squares to cover it, sprinkling some of the gel across the gauze before taping it down. "Alright, that's out of the way. What next?"

Reaching, he placed both hands on either side of his rib-cage, applying light amounts of pressure. "We should wrap his chest up next; one or two are broken, a few more are probably cracked or bruised...it's a slower healing process than cutting him open and applying gel, but we can't exactly do that here."

"Yeah...and we can't exactly send him to the hospital, we have no clue who he is or how this happened..." With his help, Maria started to bandage up his chest.

"Aww, you sound like you care."

"Shut up and get more bandages for his head."

* * *

London was such an interesting place; sure, Naomi had been to America for short periods of time, but everything was much more...casual there than it was here.

Still, after her first trip there when she was thirteen, she had preferred dresses and boots to kimonos and geta, as they allowed easier movement and weren't as constricting in the least. (thinking about removing this...)

"May I help you, ma'am?"

"Certainly. I have an appointment with Chief Wayne, three o'clock sharp."

"Oh, you must be that new inspector -"

"Investigator."

"- investigator, right. Well, right this way, ma'am." He stepped out from behind the counter and opened the door for her, sweeping his arm to the side.

_...Why couldn't he just give me directions to his office?_ Naomi walked past the man and through the door before turning back to the secretary.

"I don't need an escort."

It wasn't even that hard to identify where she had to go: it was a door near the back of the room, with a plate with _David Wayne _embossed in gold on it. Honestly, was it that hard to let a woman go unattended for all of five minutes?

Another matter was that everybody had quieted down and looked to the door when she walked in, like a bunch of school-children. Following with that idea, they began to gossip.

"That must that that new investigator they sent in."

"Her? No way. She looks like a walking corpse."

"Really...Is she supposed to help us, or is she supposed to hold us back?"

Rolling her eyes, Naomi turned to look at the two chatter-boxes. "Who's holding who back now? I believe you have work to do, officers." And with that, she walked into Mr. Wayne's office.

"Y-Yowch, so cold..."

The office was furnished modestly - it only contained a desk with a chair behind it, a seat in front of the desk, and a book-shelf and filing cabinet that were both behind the desk. A man - rather large, dark skinned with white hair and glasses - sat in the chair, glancing up when she entered.

"Ah. You must be Ms. Kimishima. It's a pleasure." He smiled kindly, a gesture that made Naomi smile a bit in return and hold out her hand.

_He seems like a kind man._

"The pleasure is all mine, Chief Wayne." Wayne took her hand and shook it, letting go and gesturing to the seat.

"There's no need to be formal, you know. Why don't you take a seat?"

Nodding, she made sure the back of her skirt was smoothed down while sitting, straightening out the front after.

"Now, about this case -"

The door to the Chief's office opened, and a blond-haired man walked through, smiling sheepishly.

"Yes, Navel? Is there something you need?" This affirmed her previous thoughts of him being a kind man; instead of a reprimand, he simply asked what was needed. She would like this job, as Naomi preferred things short, straight, and to the point. No dilly-dallying needed.

"Oh, yes...I have the records from the witnesses', and some more completed analyses, from the Brookman Case."

"Just set them on the desk, I'll give them a look later...oh, have you met Ms. Kimishima?" Chief Wayne had brought the attention back to her; she nodded to this 'Navel' out of politeness.

_Why does he seem so familiar...?_It was quite odd. She could've sworn she saw someone that looked exactly like him, but when and where this person was seen were greatly blurred.

"Not yet...It's nice to meet you, Ms. Kimishima." They shook hands as well, before turning their attention back to the Chief. "I suppose I'll be going, then..." Turning, he headed for the door...

"Inspector, wait a second." ...and promptly turned back around.

"Yes, sir?"

"Why don't you show Ms. Kimishima around? You're the only one that leaves at this time, and since I need to go over these files -" He nodded to the folder that had just been dropped off "- It would make the most sense for you to both be an escort and inform her about the case she'll be working on."

_I do not need an escort. Is that so hard to understand?_

"A-Alright...right this way, Ms. Kimishima." Standing, Naomi nodded to the Chief, and left with the Inspector.

"Oh, my name is -"

"Little Guy."

"W-what?"

"You're Little Guy, now. Names are a distraction."

Snickers and jeers came from around the office, many featuring snide remarks - for example, "Ha, just what kind of meeting did they have in there?" - while Little Guy flushed and fiddled with the cuffs on his jacket.

Naomi smirked.

Oh, this would be a fun stay.

* * *

_This may be the last time I am in Japan..._

The thought was somewhat depressing to Tomoe; to have to leave her homeland all because she turned down a request for marriage.

Well, she hadn't done that yet. Actually, a note would be turning down her suitor and her father; she only hoped she would be long gone before then.

"Lady Tomoe, are you ready to depart?"

All of what she needed had already been put into two bags, and plans to leave on a ship heading for east were prepared. Tomoe just had to bid her mother good-bye, as she has always done when leaving on a trip.

Placing the incense in front of the photograph, she clasped her hands in front of her and bowed her head in prayer.

_Mother...I know you may not approve of this - after all, if you ran away from your arranged marriage, I would not even be here right now._

_However...I feel that neither my suitor nor I are ready for such commitments. Especially with each other. Do you remember, when you showed me how to tell my fortune using tea?_

_The tea leaves, once the telling was complete, formed into a snake. That was part of your lessons, of bad premonitions._

_It seems silly to rely just on a fortune telling, I know. But to me, it just feels like a bad idea. Father is completely for the idea, as is my suitor; which is why I must leave._

_I am not sure whether or not I will be back...so for now, good-bye, mother, and hopefully I will be able to talk to you again._

_Best wishes in Heaven._

Breathing in the scent of peach blossoms - her mother's favored flower - Tomoe relaxed. Whether or not her mother agreed, she knew that the late Lady of the Tachibana House would watch over her.

"Alright, Hanzou, I am ready."

They had agreed not to increase their speed until they were off the property; it would be easier to dismiss them leaving at this time if they walked. She followed Hanzou, knowing that he would take care of her while they were in a foreign country.

It wasn't long until they reached the edge of the grounds - at that moment, they dashed off, becoming blurs in the early morning light. Scenery passed by quickly, from woods to fields meant for rice, to plains that seemed to stretch on forever.

Everything seemed to just be taking so much longer tonight; Tomoe honestly didn't want to waste a second, not until she could truly taste freedom, far away from her homeland. Amaterasu only knows when her father would be getting up today, or if anybody had sensed them, or seen them leaving and would realize to soon...

"M'lady, are you alright?"

...and here she was, thinking about wasting time when in reality she had stopped moving. Wonderful.

"I believe I am...I am just...very concerned we will not make it in time..."

Her loyal servant smiled at her, the same smile she could remember from her childhood when the three of them (her, her mother, and Hanzou) had snuck of to town for a treat. The smile that showed he knew what was wrong (as he somehow always did) and that reassured her that everything would be okay.

"Should we not get a move on, then? I believe we may be wasting time here, chit-chatting."

Smiling back, she nodded, and they continued their run until they reached the edge of the port town. From there, they walked, boarding the ship with the workers and the commoners, blending in with their less gaudy attire.

_Things are definitely looking up, now._

However, not until the ship set sail did Tomoe realize...

...She got sea-sick very easily.

* * *

At this time of the year, the flowers around the hospital were in their prime, most in full bloom and many more to follow.

Personally, this was Hank's favourite time of the year - everything was fresh and new, and generally a relief from a cold, wet winter.

...As well as the fact that Gabe's amount of patients sent in decreased significantly around now. It's not like Hank minded helping his pal out, but sometimes it got a little stressful, when he had to supervise and cover the paperwork of each one while taking care of his own patients.

_Really, it was a shame he had to quit being a surgeon...I miss being able to have some sort of chat with him daily._

Well, Esha said he did need a break, since he rarely took time off, save for holidays to return to America to visit his family...Maybe a visit to the back-alley clinic was in order. He just hoped Gabe was still alive; after all, he was always teasing somebody, and that somebody usually ended up being Maria...

Hank absentmindedly rubbed his jaw, still remembering the time he had to wake her up...

She could give one hell of a punch.

"Hank! Your break is over!" Esha waved from the door of the hospital, carrying her clip-board on her as always, along with a small file.

"What's that file for?"

"One of your patients was complaining of minor aches in his lower leg; I thought you might want to check it out."

"Alright. I'll go make sure nothing else happened."

"That's our Hank!" Grinning, Esha handed him the file and patted him on the shoulder. They walked through the halls of Resurgam together. "Don't worry, I have Emma covering for your paperwork today."

"You didn't have to do that...I could have taken care of it, really."

"Well, Emma offered...it was either paper-work or bed-pan duty."

"Ah, I see." Stopping into the patient's room, he smiled at the little boy. "Hello, Frederick...I heard your leg was bothering you?"

The little boy, barely eleven, pouted and crossed him arms over his chest. "...A little..."

Chuckling - _Ah, to be young and act like your tough again... -_,Hank walked over, shifting the covers to the side to inspect his leg. Running his hand over Frederick's shin lightly, he pressed down at certain areas, focusing around the area that garnered a wince.

"So, right here...can you tell me what it feels like?"

"It just feels...weird. Like one second it's tight, the next it's loose, and it keeps doing it over and over."

"I see...And has your leg moved randomly at all when it does this?"

"Uh huh! I didn't even do anythin' and it just moved!" The little boy seemed curious and worried to what was happening, as he had told Hank earlier that he couldn't wait to be up and running around with his friends again.

Reaching over, he ruffled Frederick's hair. "Don't worry; it's just a muscle spasm, no doubt your body just adjusting to breaking your leg. We can give you some medication to make that pain go away, as well."

"Okay!" And the boy was all smiles again, glad to know that once the break was healed he could go back to playing soccer and climbing trees without an issue.

Opening the file, Hank started to jot down a note to give Frederick a low dosage of ibuprofen to relax his muscles and ease the pain that came with the spasms. While he was in the middle of it, a hand tugged at his sleeve.

"Is something wrong?" He shrugged, then pointed out the window.

"I'unno, but what's the lady up on the roof doin'?"

"On the roof...?"

Turning, he looked to where Frederick was pointing. There _was_ a lady up on the roof; that was rather...odd. Hank wondered what she was even doing up there, until she jumped off.

Reacting quickly, he got to his feet and called for a nurse to watch over Frederick, dashing outside and across the street - most had stopped, many staring in horror at the broken lady...no, _girl_. Carefully, keeping her as still as he could, Hank turned her over to survey the damage done.

It was terrible.

Her left leg bore the brunt of the damage; there were bumps forming under her skin all across her shin, little bits of bone poked out through the skin, and her ankle was lying flat on its side on the pavement, obviously broken.

Further up, near the waist of her dress, blood was already spreading across the fabric and pavement quickly - Hank caught sight of the upper part of the femur that had shattered and pierced through the skin there as well, but much more severely - no doubt there was damage done to the hip bone.

There were various abrasions on her skin, from her colliding with the pavement; those would be easy to treat.

Thankfully, the girl hadn't hit her head, but judging from the angle her upper right arm was bent at, the humerus bone had also broken - possibly from a collision with one of the window-sills.

Picking the girl up with care - she was still breathing, _thank god_, but it was shallow and quick - he hurried back to Resurgam, pushing thoughts of a day off completely out of his head.

* * *

He didn't remember going to sleep on a bed. Actually, the last thing he remembered was...was...

...Nothing, apparently.

So laying here and trying to remember what happened wasn't going to help him in any way.

He just wish he knew why everything hurt like it did.

Those answers wouldn't be gained by just sleeping, though, he knew that. He knew other things, too: what he learned from books or a teacher, medical knowledge...Just nothing about himself or what happened.

Opening his eyes, he slowly sat up; his torso didn't hurt as much as his head or lower abdomen did, more like a sharp ache...Probably his ribs. And if he were kept in this office, then that meant his wounds hadn't been too serious...

Taking a deep breath to steady himself - damnit, he felt so weak... - he reached his bandaged hand up to touch his head gingerly. He tried applying a light amount of pressure to see if he could determine the severity of his head wound, but pain practically radiated throughout his head.

"So, you're awake, kid. Finally. Thought we'd have to get some princess in here to kiss Sleeping Beauty."

Blinking, he glanced up, noting a man in a white coat washing his hands at the nearby sink. The man turned, a damaged cigarette in his mouth.

"You got some serious injuries there...remember what happened?"

"..." He just glanced sideways, hands resting on the sheets.

"Aw, c'mon, you mute too or somethin'? Sheesh, didn't think a kid could be this much trouble..." The man moved about the room, a small smirk practically plastered on his face.

"...I'm not a kid." He looked back at the man; even his voice sounded weak...

"Oh? Then what are you? Any hints? Maria couldn't find a thing, and RONI refused to use her voodoo to help."

...Voodoo? What was this man going on about?

"I...don't know..."

"That's one question answered, then...You took a bad hit to the head, it seems. Guess it did affect your memory, after all."

He nodded. "...Where are we?"

"London, England."

_Oh. Well, that's good...I think...if I could remember where I had been before, it would be helpful._

"Hey, just 'cause I've got no problem calling you 'kid' all the time, doesn't mean you can just waltz around without a name. I take it you don't remember that either?"

He shook his head.

The man sighed, blowing smoke into the air.

He wrinkled his nose slightly, disgusted and slightly nauseated by the smell of it.

"Hm..." His eyes glanced back and forth the room, occasionally stopping on objects.

"...Dare I ask what you're doing?"

"Looking for a name for you, kid."

"..." He stayed silent, praying his name didn't actually end up being 'kid' or something similar...

"How about CR-S01? We could just call you 'CR' or 'kid' for short, and nobody would ask any...unnecessary questions."

"...Where did you get that from, a bar code?"

"Gee, how'd you guess?" Smirking, the man walked out of the room with a parting sentence. "Oh, and Maria said that if you weren't fully clothed by the time she was back, she'd give you an injury to really worry about. Clothes are on the chest."

He sighed quietly under his breath, wondering who he just got involved with...

_Oh well...CR-S01 it is. _

_

* * *

_And that's the prologue! c: Could you please give me some feedback? I just have a few simple questions I'd like you to answer (thought, you don't have to if you don't want to): Were all of the characters in character and were there any segments I could work on?

Thanks for reading, and the next chapter will be up as soon as it's done!

~ DreamVII


End file.
